


Burns Softer

by IfCujoWereSappho



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Dorks in Love, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, M/M, Sexual Content, communication is important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 16:25:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13438677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IfCujoWereSappho/pseuds/IfCujoWereSappho
Summary: Sometimes Mikoto burns softer





	Burns Softer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mistleto3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistleto3/gifts).



> (Disclaimer: I do not own K or any recognizable characters. Non/Self beta’d All mistakes, bad writing and OOCness are mine)  
> Dedicated to [mistleto3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mistleto3)

Mikoto burns hot, burns anything and anyone he wishes with his touch. It’s cliche but it’s fair to compare him to his own fire, his clan gathers around him for light and warmth, for the family HOMRA gave them when they hadn’t one to belong with. His temperature goes from cool to scorching in an instant and anything in his warpath turns to ash when something turns him volatile. There’s a reason he’s well known, even for a King, there are reasons HOMRA is a family. There are reasons you do not touch Suoh Mikoto’s family, anyone who tries gets burned. He doesn’t tolerate any threat to his family but for the most part, they can take care of themselves. What he really does not tolerate is any threat to those who can’t fight back, purposeful abuse of power for the sake of lording it over someone.

 

The first time someone attacked Totsuka, he wouldn’t tell Mikoto who. He knew, probably somewhere deep down if not at the forefront of his mind, that Mikoto would destroy them. They were only kids themselves at the time. Totsuka learned to be careful but not perfect, as the years went on he usually managed to weasel out of telling Mikoto who’d given him trouble, knowing he’d be signing death warrants. The rare occasions Mikoto was present, caught someone bothering Totsuka, they learned quickly to leave him alone unless they wanted burns. Be it once when the younger man couldn’t shake off a wanna-be suitor or a passing stranger’s crude commentary, Mikoto might give a cold glare and an aura glow or might turn heated and put someone through a wall.

 

Right now Mikoto is glowing mad, that much is obvious as he holds back Munakata’s saber with bare (if aura lit) wrists.

“You’re going to get hurt like that, Suoh,” Munakata sneers.

Mikoto wants to punch him. So he does. He clips the other Kings ribcage despite an agile dodge but it’s nowhere near satisfying. He wants to crush something, he wants the Blues to understand the fear that ran through him when a sword came that close to Totsuka.

“I’m fine King, I promise.” But by the time Totsuka had spoken Mikoto was hellbent on teaching the newbie his place if Munakata wasn’t going to.

“You’re going to get that boy killed,” Munakata scolded, “but you know that, Suoh, don’t you?”

It was like he was asking Mikoto to beat the shit out of him and leave the city in ruins around them, he should know better.

“I mean it,” Munakata spoke up again. “If you value that boy...” His sword shed a sliver of crimson hair as it drove into a brick wall he’d corned Mikoto against. “Suoh, don’t risk someone who can’t take care of himself.”

Mikoto might be a hothead, but he wasn’t an idiot. Munakata stepped in to protect his subordinate from Mikoto’s vengeance and Mikoto was just as happy to take out his sudden rage on his old friend, fellow King and equal. It wasn’t that these face offs were rare, and were becoming even less so as time wore on, but there was no point to this and Totsuka for once just wanted to go home. He was not disappointed when other business called the Blues to retreat.

 

Totsuka is no moron either, he knows to stay out of the fray but that night was a little too new for everyone, so maybe it’s a relief when he’s home to HOMRA’s bar and a familiar heat overtakes him. At first it’s just Mikoto around him, holding him from behind and crushing Totsuka’s back against his stuttering chest. Mikoto is still shaking slightly as if the adrenaline won’t leave his system. Mikoto’s vice grip softens as his lips press into the back of Totsuka’s neck and they both sigh (Mikoto’s haggard and Totsuka’s shaky) at the contact. Mikoto’s angst sometimes spurns Totsuka’s but he also knows why he’s there. His King needs him. They move in practiced synchronization, Mikoto’s lips ghosting over the side of Totsuka’s throat, searching for Totsuka’s as the younger man turns in his arms.

 

Sometimes, Mikoto burns softer for Totsuka, sears into his lips a slow but unyielding smolder that Totsuka can feel in his throat and chest. It’s such a relief that it almost hurts. Mikoto’s softness calms him though, he’s content and pliant when he lets Mikoto hold him and carry him up the stairs. On a night with a different kind of heat he might melt against whatever wall Mikoto pins him to and moans and gasp encouragements as Mikoto yanks his hair and bites into him, ravishes him like he’s starving and with no time to lose. Tonight though, Mikoto’s presence is a softer warmth. He carries Totsuka like a treasure, not a trophy, something to cherish just as he plans to. He doesn’t bother turning on the light as they enter his room, instead treading to his bed and lowering Totsuka to sit on it. Mikoto kneels in front of him. Totsuka leans eagerly into the hand at the side of his face and gives a quiet hum to emphasize his appreciation.

“Totsuka...”

His name is rough and gravelly in his lovers voice.

“Yes, King.”

“I...Totsuka...”

“I’m telling you yes, Mikoto,” Totsuka supplies, rather than letting him keep grasping for words. Words are not always Mikoto’s forte.

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” Mikoto looks like he’s the one in awe and pain. “Any of it?”

Totsuka knows his King means these words about more than the consent Totsuka is granting him right then.

“Yes.” But so does Totsuka. “You’ll know if I don’t want it.”

“This?” Mikoto bridges the space between them to kiss him again, they lay back together as Mikoto climbs on top of him, allowing less and less physical distance with each second.

“Me?”

Mikoto’s voice shakes, Totsuka knows his boyfriend is afraid of hurting him...or letting anything else hurt him. No one else sees the Red King like this, it’s not in combat or under fire that Mikoto is vulnerable, it’s here. For all his reputation for power and destructive ability, Mikoto is afraid of himself. That’s what Totsuka is there for.

“Yes,” Totsuka says, his answer against Mikoto’s lips. “Yes I want you.”

He reaches for the hem of Mikoto’s shirt as Mikoto carefully bears down to kiss him again, only stopping to let Totsuka pull it off before going for his own shirt. He gets it over his stomach, face and arms now covered, when Mikoto’s mouth is on skin newly bare. He reaches just above his boyfriend’s navel to set off giggles, he knows Totsuka is ticklish there. By the time he’s stirring patterns into Totsuka’s sides the younger’s head and arms are still hidden.

“King...” the title comes out in a laugh. “Help...I’m stuck.”

Yet Totsuka is still grinning when his King helps him pry himself out of the sleeves, it matches Mikoto’s own obvious (at least to Totsuka) mirth. The distress in Mikoto’s eyes has lifted even if there remains something else to soothe. They’re both grinning into the next kiss when Totsuka licks Mikoto’s bottom lip and opens his mouth to ask for tongue. Mikoto’s kisses are gentle for the urgency they convey, his lips are rough but the way he uses them is indulgent and tender, sending sparks through Totsuka.

“I love you,” he was already panting.

Mikoto’s teeth scrape the side of his neck between open mouthed kisses, taking his time in choosing a spot to bite in earnest and suck a light bruise into.

“Oh, King.”

Mikoto felt a wicked thrill at the encouragement, Totsuka’s voice hitting the feeling pooling in both his stomach and pants.

“Totsuka,” the way Mikoto ground out the name as he ground into Totsuka pulls a needy groan from them both. Totsuka meets his hips and whines for more.

“King...need you...”

“How?” Mikoto growls. His kisses persist over Totsuka’s chest and his mouth leaves blooming marks in its wake.

“On me, in me, all around me,” Totsuka pleas. “Just don’t stop,” he reaches for Mikoto to pull his head up and look him in the eyes. “I want all of you.”

Mikoto straddles him suddenly with a hotter, wordless growl, kisses him slow and deep. There’s still a tension there, in his face, in his shoulders, in his neck and jaw when he speaks.

“I am so in love with you.”

Mikoto gives himself a moment of satisfaction in watching his lovers pupils dilate further holds

eye contact with the same strength he holds himself up. He leans back like a trained dancer, abdominals taut and bent knees on either side of the boy he straddles. Mikoto finally gives Totsuka a chance to touch and reaches a bit awkwardly behind himself. With practice he’s gotten better at fluid motion and he’s rougher with Totsuka’s pants than his body. Totsuka starts to unclasp Mikoto’s jeans when he feels a hand in his boxers, quick to moan and nod his agreement to this move. The tent in Mikoto’s jeans and the hand stroking him make it no easier to get into Mikoto’s pants but Totsuka has tackled such challenge before.

“Oh god,” Totsuka’s words falter as Mikoto’s grip on him tightens but continues at the same languid pace. Even more subtly is he wavering his hips so that he teases himself the the slightest bit of friction against Totsuka’s torso. They’re both more unsteady than usual. Totsuka could swear that his boyfriend’s lip quivers, that maybe the fear isn’t so heavy in Mikoto’s eyes but something else is.

“God I want you,” Totsuka gasps and his eyes water and he strains his neck again to free Mikoto’s erection. He surprises Mikoto when he grips the base, “want you so bad...but...something’s wrong isn’t it?”

He knows and Mikoto knows he could never fool Totsuka, so instead he lets go of Totsuka (who does the same) and leans back down. He drops himself next to his boyfriend, jeans halfway down his legs, boxer-briefs straining at their odd angle, erections bothering them both for attention, grace be damned tonight.

“Do you want to stop?” Totsuka asks.

Mikoto huffs, his whole chest moving with the exhalation. “I don’t know.”

“Then we wait until you do.”

Mikoto slips two fingers into the waistband of Totsuka’s boxers, awaiting further consent. Totsuka shows it by lifting himself to let Mikoto slide tug them off before shoving off the rest of his own clothing. He welcomes one of Mikoto’s legs between his own and tries not to hiss or squirm with bodily need as they press together. He whines instead.

“You wanna take care of that?” Mikoto asks, he sounds nearly deadpan himself.

Totsuka pushes back so they can look at each other, “I mean yeah, but not until I know it’s okay.”

By now the room is dark and their eyes have adjusted as much as they can. They lie there silently for a long moment with fixed stares. He doesn’t speak but Totsuka does reach out and lay a palm against Mikoto’s face as Mikoto did earlier. Mikoto covers it with his own, closes his eyes, breathes in, out, opens them.

“I love you, Totsuka.” Another long pause, “I’m going to be the death of you.”

Totsuka lets another moment pass before he kisses Mikoto, mouth careful but not shy. He doesn’t urge and backs off only to tuck Mikoto’s head against him.

“I know you’re afraid of that,” he says. “But you can’t lose me. No matter where I am I will be with you.”

It’s cheesy, he knows, but he also knows Mikoto needs him to say it.

“It’s okay to need someone, King. That’s what I’m here for.”

Their foreheads touch, it melts into small shared breaths and nuzzles, ghosting kisses and cover each others faces, their hands roam without real intent.

“I always need you,” Mikoto whispers. “Always want you.”

“And now?” Totsuka asks, hands sifting suggestively lower and lower.

“Yeah.”

“Show me,” Totsuka bids him. “Show me, I’m ready for whatever you want.”

I need to know you’re here. I need you to know I love you. Mikoto doesn’t say it in words but Totsuka can feel the desire radiating from him. He imagines Mikoto straddling him, running his hands over the muscles and scars on his King’s bare torso, Mikoto spread open ontop of him...

“Hey.” Mikoto sounds a bit amused, he’s smirking.

“Ah- I was just uh- thinking.”

Mikoto gives him a look of yeah, and?

“Earlier, what I wanted to do to you...or uh, wanted you to do to me,” Totsuka admits.

Mikoto knows there’s more, “and that is?”

Totsuka braces himself, he’s not afraid to tell Mikoto what he wants but bashfulness creeps up in odd places. “Ride me then switch, do me so thoroughly you’ll have to carry me everywhere tomorrow.”

Totsuka could tease sometimes but it amused Mikoto to see how much dirty talk was not as easy.

Totsuka suddenly brandished a wicked grin, “and let me suck you while you straddle me and prep yourself.”

Well, not usually.

No one thing could fix all of the anxieties, the burns and ruins Mikoto leaves, but Totsuka make it bearable. He burns softer for Totsuka, Mikoto can’t help reflecting his excitement.

“I like this plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> I realize Totsuka is his surname and Tatara is his first name, I have no idea why that bothers me so much but it does. Therefore I pretend it’s the other way around.


End file.
